


As the earth burns to the ground

by Herembers



Series: As the world caves in [2]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Cheating, Cunnilingus, Dominant!Misa, F/M, Fluff, Fuck Light Yagami all my homies hate Light Yagami, Gentle femdom, Smut, Submissive!L
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28507434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herembers/pseuds/Herembers
Summary: An unfortunate encounter in a dark alleyway, a Death God or two, a missing memory and too much time on her hands leaves Misa eager for distraction while stuck inside headquarters. Thankfully, L never says no.Canon divergence, Part two of three.
Relationships: Amane Misa/L
Series: As the world caves in [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080656
Comments: 20
Kudos: 50





	As the earth burns to the ground

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been taking a nice long break from my responsibilities and found a little time to hopefully give you an enjoyable update to this little side project for the new year. This is part two of three, so please read the first part before this one, as it’s a canon divergence with some major differences from the anime.
> 
> The titles of the fics are from the song As the World Caves in by Matt Maltese, which is so angsty and nice to write to.

* * *

“…says she needs to speak to the head of the Kira investigation.”

He’s only half tuned in to what the officer is saying. He’s been frustrated with his own agitation and listlessness for hours now, his mind wanders so often he finds himself staring at a blank screen, stirring tea that has long gone cold, sugar long been dissolved. No new information has come in. Well, nothing if you ignore the very recent request to see him. Which he plans to. Most tips that come in about Kira are dead ends. Paranoid citizens who watch neighbors from behind their blinds a little too closely. Angry, jilted ex-lovers looking for easy revenge. He already knows exactly who Kira is, what he needs is information from someone close to Light Yagami to get a good break in the case. He’s certain that will cure him of his lethargy.

He’s about to tell the officer to have whoever it is leave a message until he glances up at the security camera and freezes, spoon clanking loudly into his teacup.

He sits up straight at once, leaning forward make sure it’s really her. He swallows at his dry throat. Before he lets himself get excited, he remembers that she can’t possibly know that he’s the head of the Kira investigation. She’s not here for him. She’s soaked from the rain, head whipping over her shoulder as if she’s worried someone’s followed her in. She’s here because she knows something dangerous and whatever it is has her shivering and afraid.

And he’s not about to ignore that.

“Bring her back, I want to see her.”

* * *

Misa leaves Ryuzaki’s apartment feeling cold and numb. She’s thrown her hair into a ponytail, ignoring the snarls in it as she combs through it roughly with her fingers. When she wipes her eyes, streaks of black are smeared across the back of her hands, presumably more has streaked across her face as well. The automatic door slides open for her as she leaves the apartment complex. Cold wind slices at her face as she walks down the street, barely aware of her surroundings. She knows only vaguely where she's heading. Her phone has finally stopped vibrating in her pocket and has probably long since gone dead. It's fine, she doesn't want to talk to anyone anyways. Especially not Light.

She never imagined it would go that way. She expected sleeping with him would be like how it was with Light: something for her to sit through and bare. Be handled too roughly, thrown around too carelessly, and easily discarded once the ordeal is over. It was nothing like that. Maybe she should have known he would be different. Over the weeks she’s gotten to know him he’s shown her nothing but patience and kindness. There’s an innocence to him she feels like she’s tainted. She raises a hand to her mouth which is still swollen from kisses, all of them too sweet, too gentle. Not at all what she deserves. She feels a few more hot tears streak down her face, carving new lines through the mascara she’s smudged across her cheeks. She probably looks crazy, wandering aimlessly down the street looking like she does, but she doesn’t care. It’s a walk of shame. To be taken from such high heights to such low lows has left her feeling exhausted and beyond caring about how she looks.

She wants to muster the energy to be angry with him for taking the picture but can’t quite manage it. Her heart clenches painfully in her chest when she thinks of him.

_“So, you don’t feel anything for me?”_

_I do. I do feel something. And I’m scared because I really shouldn’t._

And then there’s Light. What kind of girlfriend is she to be so easily swayed by another man? She’s always prided herself on her loyalty to him. She should be more ashamed of breaking that. Light is waiting for her somewhere. Maybe he feels hurt by her betrayal. Maybe he’s reflecting over his own actions? Maybe he feels just as broken as he made her feel. There’s no satisfaction in that thought though.

A noise from behind her distracts her racing thoughts, causing the hair to stand on the back of her neck. She noticed it not long after she left Ryuzaki’s apartment, it’s only now that she’s paying close attention it. Heavy footsteps that echo hers. She casts a nervous look over her shoulder. A sickening thrill of terror runs down her spine. A man in a dark sweatshirt is walking behind her several yards back, a dark hat casting a black shadow over his face and even from a distance she can hear his heavy breathing, like an animal excitedly poised and ready to strike at their prey. She looks forward at once, quickening her pace, heels clicking on the pavement. It’s late so less people are out. In fact, it seems like she’s the only person in this part of town. A surreptitious look at her phone confirms that it’s indeed gone dead as she feared.

She tries to think of what she should do next, but panic is rising inside of her as she hears him approaching more quickly from behind. She turns a corner, now breaking into a run but ends up in a dim alley, lit only by a flickering streetlight and feels her stomach drop.

She’s turned as he’s approaching her faster now, something in his right-hand glints under the yellow streetlight. She doesn’t feel like she’s in her own body anymore, instead she’s become a bystander watching it unfold. Every detail is sharp and vivid. The color of his red rimmed eyes, the burnished shine of the blade raised above her. She has enough time to think that maybe this is her punishment for being cruel. Her hands cross before her, raised in defense, a shriek ready at her lips.

But the blow never comes.

Instead, the man has stopped right before her, his wide, bloodshot eyes bugged out in shock. The knife in his hand falls with a heavy clatter to the pavement. He falls forward against her, causing them both to topple to the ground. She sobs, heaving him off her and scrambling backwards in the alley, legs scraping against the broken glass littered there.

He’s landed on his back, his form completely still. When she pushes him with a leg to see if he’ll move, his face falls to the side, eyes glassy and unseeing. A rivulet of bright red blood snakes from his slack mouth, dripping to the pavement below.

She shudders, clambering farther backwards against the wall behind her. She slaps a hand over her mouth in horror, heart still beating furiously against her ribcage. She looks back at him and notices something odd has appeared on the ground nearby.

Just beside his body lies a pile of what looks like ash and in the center sits a pristine black notebook. And despite her fear and confusion, something about it feels dangerous but alluring, calling out to her. She reaches a shaking hand for it, and the moment her fingers graze its smooth cover she immediately feels another presence. She raises her eyes up to see who it is. The book slips from her fingers into the pile of ash, sending it swirling into the sky.

The hulking form of a skeletal creature looms over her. Long, spindly fingers reach for the notebook that Misa has dropped in her haste. While she was prepared to scream when the man tried to attack, she feels her cries die on her lips. Something about this monster has robbed her of speech. She stares, horrorstruck as the creature holds the book out to her, but Misa doesn’t reach for it.

“What are you?” She asks, finding her voice come out in a small, frightened squeak.

The creature’s eyes are unreadable, as it croaks out. “A Shinigami.”

“Shinigami?” She asks, lips trembling. “A-am I dead?” She glances back over at the dead man nearby, swallowing, “D-did you kill him too?”

The creature shakes its head. “No. Another did and thanks to that sacrifice, you remain alive.”

The Shinigami extends the book to Misa again. She glances at it, unsure if she should take it, but she does, and reads the cover, looking up at the Shinigami in uncertainty.

“What is this?”

“A Death Note.”

* * *

“Shinigami write the names of humans in their Death Notes when it is their time to die.”

Though initially frightened by the Shinigami, who says her name is Rem, she finds that Rem is relatively harmless, at least to her. She follows Misa home where, after assuring her that she won’t take her life, allows Misa to fall into her bed, with the promise that tomorrow she’ll explain everything. Her exhaustion was so heavy that even with a death god literally feet from her, she fell almost immediately into a deep sleep.

Misa now towel dries her hair in her apartment as Rem explains this to her. She frowns over at the notebook which lays on a table nearby. “I was supposed to die then? Why did you stop it?”

Rem shakes her head. “The Shinigami Gelus stopped your death. He wrote the name of your attacker instead of yours. When a Shinigami does this, they give their lifespan to the human they’ve saved and then cease to be.”

The towel in her hand slows at this. “He died _for me_? But why?”

Rem shrugs, eyes unfathomable as she speaks. “I do not know. I tried to stop him. I warned him of the consequences.”

Misa suppresses a shiver. If Rem had succeeded in stopping him, that would leave Misa lying in that alley instead. But she also feels pity for the Shinigami who gave his life for hers.

“I wish I could have thanked him.” She says softly.

“I gave you his Death Note because I believe he would have wanted you to have it.”

The idea that Shinigami are actually real and that something like a Death Note even exists makes her head spin. She looks again at the inconspicuous notebook. She can’t imagine using it. Who would she even want to kill? She couldn’t possibly…

But that thought gradually fades when she thinks of her parent’s murderer who currently sits in prison and she feels her palms begin to itch.

“How does it work again?” Misa asks quietly, eyes glued to the notebook as if under its spell.

Rem explains the rules. A name, a face, and a cause of death if she chooses. Then, they’ll die. Just like that. She knows his face, his name. She knows exactly how long he’s been in prison. How long it’ll be until he’s released. She can’t forget it. He murders her family and then gets a few years in prison. A slap on the wrist compared to the damage he’s caused. The pain he’s caused her. She can write his death as explicitly as her parents died if she wants to. He’d get exactly what he gave them. He’ll be the one cowering in fear, begging for his life. He’ll bleed out somewhere alone, just like her parents did. He’ll _pay_. The idea is so savagely tempting, she feels a dark red glow of possibility run through her at the thought, the satisfaction it would bring her. Rem watches her from the shadows in silence. And just as Misa wonders where a pen is, her doorbell goes off, breaking her trance.

Her stomach lurches guiltily. _Light_.

She hastily throws the towel over the book and looks at Rem in fear.

“Hide! I don’t want him to see you!“ More insistent knocks sound.

“He won’t see- “

But Misa is already running to the door, smoothing her hands over her dress nervously and opens the door for him.

The moment he is through the door, she sees a flash of red in his eyes before his hand connects sharply, slapping her across the face.

She staggers back with a gasp of pain, falling to the floor, knocking into the small table holding the Death Note. He looks completely unlike himself, unhinged and terrifying. She should have expected as much. Still, there is a cruelty there that chills her because she’s never seen that from him before.

“Who was it?” He says through gritted teeth.

_He doesn’t know it was Ryuzaki!_ This gives her some relief. “I…I don’t know I met him at a club.” She lies quickly. “It meant nothing!”

Another lie.

“I hope you’ve had your fun, because I won’t have you making me look stupid.”

She nods quickly, “I’m sorry. I was drinking and didn’t think.”

For a moment it looks like he wants to hit her again, but his body goes completely still. His eyes rise to the corner of the room where Rem waits in the shadows. Misa looks at her and back at Light confused.

“How is this possible?” Light murmurs.

“Light, can you see her?” Misa asks in alarm. “Does that mean…”

She trails off as another Shinigami has floated in behind him. He is crueler and more sinister looking than Rem and Misa feels on edge at once.

“Interesting.” The Shinigami chuckles.

Light’s eyes have snapped back onto Misa and when he speaks his voice is deadly soft. “Misa, are you hiding something from me?”

Her bottom lip trembles as she shakes her head.

His eyes find the notebook which has landed on the floor beside her. His eyes are bright and whatever he’s thinking has him excited. “The Death Note dangerous Misa. Have you used it?”

She shakes her head emphatically, “No! I just got it and I don’t think I want to.” A sudden thought strikes her, “Wait, you have one too? Have you?”

As he approaches her, it’s like a switch is flipped from before. No longer filled with rage, he’s looking at her differently, as if she has potential. It strikes her as odd and dangerous, even if a small part of her is pleased by it.

“There are bad people in this world Misa. Murderers, rapists...Evil people that are beyond saving. These people are scum, they need to be exterminated before the world can become a better place.” He says, crouching before her to look at her at eye level. She feels confused, why is he telling her this? “How is it fair to let those people get away with their crimes? They can’t be redeemed.”

He shakes his head as if disgusted by it all.

“There are millions of these people out there. So, the world needs people like me, like us. People who will stop the monsters of the world. That’s justice, Misa! These people should answer for their crimes, don’t you think?”

Her voice is hushed and hoarse as she responds, “What are you saying?”

“I am Kira.”

She feels her body stiffen. She wracks her brain for what she’s heard about Kira. He’s killing people. Criminals. They think he’s here in Japan. No one has been able to figure out who he is for weeks now...

“You’re joking.” She says faintly. “There’s no way.”

“I’m exterminating the scum of this world.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and in the context of his words, it feels wrong. “It’s the right thing to do.”

She feels a shiver run through her as she tries injecting some sense into the conversation. “But killing people…it’s wrong, isn’t it?”

He leans forward. “What about your parent’s murderer?”

She feels a fresh wave of hatred. He must see it in her face because his expression softens into a small, sad smile.

“He’s alive right now but you know that don’t you? His trial dragged on for months and all he got was a couple years in prison? One day he’ll get to walk free while your parents, who did nothing wrong, are dead. You’re alone because of that man. How is that fair, Misa? How is it fair to _you_?”

She’s shaking as if the temperature has dropped 10 degrees. He pulls a pen from his pocket and presses it into her trembling hands.

“You know his face, his name.” He whispers encouragingly, “You could bring some justice to this world too. We could do it together.”

_Together._

She looks at the notebook lying beside her. It’s fallen to the floor face up; pristine, white pages eager for a name. She considered it earlier, taking his life. She could wipe him from the face of the earth like he deserves. Part of what Light says makes sense. It _would be_ justice. And it _isn’t_ fair.

But even so, the pen is heavy in her hands. It twists and gnaws at something inside of her, turning her away from the urge that threatens to spill something darker than ink across the blank pages.

“I need to think about it.” She says anxiously. “Just give me a minute. I need some air.”

He looks disappointed but nods, standing up to allow her to get up. She stands shakily.

“J-just let me get some air.” She repeats. She picks up the notebook and pen to set them on the couch, but clumsily drops the pen where it rolls across the floor.

He nods sympathetically. “Take your time. I’ll be right here.”

As she touches the doorknob to leave, she turns back to the Shinigami beside him who looks on the scene with a wicked smile contorting his cruel face, like the entire exchange was pure entertainment. Beside him, Rem watches as well. By contrast her own expression is sullen and suspicious.

Light watches her too, with more understanding and kindness than he has the entire time they’ve been together. It’s the smile she’s always wanted to bring to his face. She wants to bask in that look for the rest of her life. But there’s something else there too, something unrecognizable that has shaken her more than learning about death gods and their paper scythes.

And it has solidified her resolve. She knows what she must do.

_Because I love you_.

* * *

The Shinigami Rem watches Light with contempt as the moment the door closes, his demeanor abruptly changes, the switch being turned off.

“This complicates things.” He spits at Ryuk. He’s standing and pacing the room, picking up the pen that’s fallen from the couch. He sheaths it in a shiny black cap like a sword and places it neatly into his shirt pocket.

Ryuk only chuckles. “Not so simple is it?”

“I could just kill her.” Light muses. “She left her phone, but she’ll probably be heading to the police station right now. I can’t let her ruin all my hard work, I won’t- “ but he is cut off as Rem speaks.

“If you kill Misa Amane, I will write your name in my Death Note.”

Both he and Ryuk look up at her dumbfounded. “What?”

“You will not kill her.” Rem repeats warningly. “If she is harmed, I will take your life.”

Light looks incredulous, as does Ryuk who grumbles at her. “Give your life for a _human_?”

Rem isn’t sure why but following Gelus around while he needlessly pined for the human Misa, has moved her ancient soul with a feeling she’s never experienced before. She rarely has feelings truth be told. Humans usually strike her as selfish, violent creatures with little reason. But If Gelus gave his life for hers, surely, she should make sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Even if it _is_ foolish.

There is also something about this human Light Yagami that has her on edge. He exemplifies the worst of humanity. He is dangerous, petulant and two faced. His evil thoughts easy to read on his face when his guard is down. Even in her short time roaming the human world, she too heard of Kira and his numerous killings. It wasn’t hard to surmise no ordinary human could cause such death. The moment he walked through the door with a Shinigami trailing behind him, she knew the truth.

Misa won’t be safe. She wonders if giving Misa the Death Note was the right move after all.

Light looks as though he is measuring her words carefully, looking for an exploit. He is the most calculating human she has ever come across, and no doubt his own Shinigami companion sticks around for just that reason. Usually, human lives are more mundane.

“I do not trust you Light Yagami.” She announces.

“You don’t say?” He mumbles darkly.

And evidently, neither does Misa. It was in her eyes when she left, something that told her she isn’t just going for a simple walk. Unfortunately, Light seems to have guessed this too.

“Fine. I won’t kill her.” He says sighing. “But if she’s going to the police, you should erase her thoughts.”

“Why would I do that?” She asks suspiciously.

“She has a death note too. They’ll implicate her. If not as Kira, as the second Kira. She won’t have any defense. She’s stupid, she’ll say the wrong thing. If you erase her thoughts, there’ll be nothing to tell. Once the suspicion is off her, return it to her, I promise.”

She considers this and isn’t encouraged by the rusty, sinister chuckle Ryuk croaks out. But if it’s true, Misa may be putting herself in more danger than just being near Light. And while the idea of trusting the word of this human is more laughably foolish than giving her life for one, she’s not sure what else she can do.

“I just want her safe.”

His smile is a glittering razor blade. “Then, this is how you do it.”

* * *

_Shinigami._

_Death Note._

_Kira._

_Light is Kira!_

Misa has sprinted out the door the moment she is out of earshot. She has an idea of where the police station is to her apartment. She left her wallet and phone at home, thinking Light would be suspicious if she brought it. So, she must do this on foot. It’s raining now, heavy splatters soak through her dress causing her teeth to chatter. She pants as she pauses to catch her breath at a crosswalk. The people streaming by her have no idea. They laugh with one another, carefree and oblivious. They’re in the world she used to know, one that exists without death notes and Shinigami.

She wishes she could go back to that world too. One where her boyfriend isn’t a mass murderer, one where she’s who she was before. But she’s changed. The moment that man in the alley tried killing her, the alchemy of her soul changed. She feels it and hates it. While the thought of getting revenge for her parents is sorely tempting, she needs to save someone else. Light can’t be Kira, but if he is and she turns him in, she can stop him from doing anymore damage. He isn’t in his right mind; he must have hit his head or something. _This isn’t like him!_

She’ll explain it to the police _. Light may be Kira but please take care of him. He isn’t a murderer_. He can’t be. She thinks of his weeks of shady behavior, sneaking around with another woman, claiming he needs to cheat to relieve stress. This is obviously stressful enough to warrant that kind of weirdness.

Light’s father will know what to do. She’s met him a few times and knows how proud he is of his son, he’ll make sure Light is protected, she knows it. He must be the head of the Kira investigation.

As she stumbles through the police station doors, she feels her head begin to pound. She turns to look over her shoulder to make sure no one has followed her in. She asks for the head of the Kira investigation and presses the palm of her hand into her forehead, feeling a blinding pain throbbing in her head. It’s becoming difficult to focus, but this is important. Someone needs to know.

“Kira…Its about Kira.” She hears herself say. “I need the head of the investigation.”

She registers being led to a back room. As she sits down her thoughts become foggier and for some reason, she can’t get her mind to think straight. She’s shivering and soaked from the rain. She’s frustrated with herself because she’s forgetting everything she wants to say. The words enter and leave her mind too quickly, scattering and leaving her feeling dazed. _Kira, Light…Shinigami?_

“What’re you doing here, Misa?”

She jerks her head up and is shocked to see Ryuzaki standing in the doorway.

If her words had trouble appearing before, now they are completely knocked from her mind. He has his hands dug into his jean pockets. She can see a faint crease in his forehead as he looks at her. _Is he worried about me?_ “What- Ryuzaki why are _you_ here?”

He closes the door behind him and settles into the chair across from her, perching on the edge.

“Answer my question first.”

“I need to talk to someone.” She says frowning. “It’s about Kira…”

“Yes, and what about Kira?”

She feels frustrated as she responds angrily. “That’s just it, I don’t remember!”

She knows it sounds crazy and notices how Ryuzaki watches her carefully. She still doesn’t understand why he is here. Before she can ask again, he poses his own question to her.

“What is the last thing you _do_ remember?”

She thinks. She remembers being with him. Everything about it. The hard length of him thrusting inside of her, filling her, his heavy, panting breaths against her skin, needy begging, lips trailing down her neck... _Alright!_ She thinks frantically, _enough of that!_ Everything else is murky and dark in her mind. She left his apartment…There’s the briefest flash of black and then nothing. She can remember being in her apartment with Light sometime after she slept with Ryuzaki. They fought. She subconsciously touches her face where he slapped her. Ryuzaki’s eyes follow the action.

“I argued with Light.” She murmurs, not quite meeting his eyes. He knows why. “After that I don’t know. I just remembering running here.”

“Is Light Kira?”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief. The door opens abruptly, Soichiro Yagami enters looking stern and unhappy. “Ryuzaki what did I say about accusing my son?”

Ryuzaki holds up a hand to silence him, face still trained on Misa.

“Is he?”

She blinks at him. “ _Light_? _Kira_? No way. I think I’d know if he was!”

“He hid his infidelity from you.” He points out. This stings her as she glares at him.

“Yeah, well I eventually figured that out, didn’t I?”

He sighs, tapping a finger to his lips in thought.

“So, you really can’t recall why you’re here?”

“No. And I also don’t know why _you’re_ here.” She says testily. “Maybe you should answer that first.”

He watches her, eyes intense on hers. He leans his head to the side, speaking to someone behind the glass.

“Take her to headquarters.”

She looks up at him confused as an officer enters from behind Mr. Yagami, pulling her to her feet. “Hey- Let go! What’s going on?”

“I’m the head of the Kira investigation. You just became a suspect.”

* * *

L watches as Misa is pulled away by an officer. He notices the flash of surprise and confusion in her eyes. He also notes the exhaustion there. If it’s feigned, it’s very good.

As she’s led away, one of his taskforce members, Shuichi Aizawa enters looking confused. Aizawa points back at the door as it closes, his voice rising.

“I thought you said she wasn’t the second Kira?”

“I did.” L agrees. 

He looks frustrated with him, sighing in exasperation. “So why bring her in? This looks like a waste of time.”

Mr. Yagami shakes his head. “She knows something. I think Ryuzaki is right. We should look over the security footage again.”

They head to the surveillance room where Ryuzaki had been set up before. They go over the footage of her running into the station. He leans in to peer at it closely. As she enters, her disposition is frantic, demanding someone talk to her. She suddenly presses a hand to her head, bending as if in pain.

“What did she say exactly.” He asks.

“That she needed to talk to the head of the Kira investigation.” Aizawa’s mouth is pressed into a hard line. “She was insistent that she had information.”

“She was probably operating under the assumption that Mr. Yagami would be in charge. Though I suppose it’s possible she _could_ be faking it.” L mumbles, more to himself than anyone in the room.

Mr. Yagami looks even more concerned and shakes his head. “I know her to be a very truthful young lady. I don’t think she’s faking this.”

Through the grainy security footage Misa staggers beside an officer as he leads her back. Her hand is still pressed to her head. The next video recording shows her looking bewildered, weak. He agrees with Mr. Yagami, It’s not an act he thinks she’s capable of. She knew something important when she came in and in the time it took for her to be brought back, it’s as if her mind has been wiped clean.

“I’d like to keep her close.” He murmurs, eyes still locked onto her blurry form on the screen. “I’ll head to headquarters to have a talk with her. Have Watari bring the car around, please.”

On the ride over he’s contemplating everything about their encounter. He wasn’t expecting to see her so soon. Perhaps if ever. Though, he fantasized about maybe if he finally proved once and for all that Light was Kira, he may see her in the crowd at his trial sometime in the future. He imagined she would look at him the same way she last did when he left her that night, with hurt and betrayal in her eyes. He would try to feel something other than satisfied by it because it feels good to imagine Light behind bars. It would feel better if she didn’t hate him of course, but he’s realistic. When he left that night, he was confident that he cleared her from having anything to do with Kira. Now, something is different. In the short day or so since they last saw each other, something has changed.

Keeping her close is important for several reasons. One, she has information on Kira. She may have forgotten it, but it must still be somewhere in her mind. He’ll have to dig it out somehow. Two, if Light finds out she’s gone to the police she’ll need protection. Why she isn’t already dead is a mystery to him. From the tail he put on Light, he left Misa’s home not long after she showed up at the police station. He went straight home with no stops on the way. 

He also can’t deny the profound sense of relief in her being safely near him rather than Light. He has a feeling that Misa is a cover of some sort for Light. She helps him keep up the pretense of being a regular college student. He can’t possibly be a mass murderer, he has a bright college career ahead of himself, he has relationship problems, he’s too busy to be involved in anything more nefarious than cheating on his girlfriend. Something along those lines.

When he arrives at headquarters, he hears her talking to Matsuda. Her voice raised and shrill.

“I’ve never even heard of him.” She says icily. “ _L who?_ _I_ only know him as Ryuzaki. I don’t even get why I’m here in the first place, I didn’t do anything!”

When he enters, she turns resolutely away from him.

“Thank you, Matsuda.” L directs, “Please bring Miss Amane something to eat…and a first aid kit.” He adds as an afterthought.

“I’m not hungry.” She grumbles as she sits down on the far side of the couch from him, angling her legs away from him. “And what do I need a first aid kit for?”

“I can’t imagine you’ve had much time to eat. And you need the kit for those.” He says, nodding at her legs. Several scrapes and cuts are visible across the back of them. He wonders briefly if she got them from tripping on her way to the police station, but the cuts aren’t new, while they’re angry red, they’re healing _. It must have happened in the hours before._

She follows his eyes to her legs confused. The moment she sees them her eyes widen.

“Ow!”

It’s a comically delayed reaction that puzzles him. She touches one wincing. “God, when did this happen?”

“You seem to be very forgetful today.”

She nods, sitting up to examine them more closely. “Yeah, I guess. Jeez what kind of day did I just have?”

He watches as her eyes glaze over for a second, like she was remembering something.

“What is it?”

She shakes her head. “It’s just-I feel like it’s a word you know but just can’t get your finger on, you know? Uhg it’s so frustrating!”

She must see something disbelieving in his face because she sighs.

“I really don’t know what happened.”

“It wasn’t Light then?”

She shakes her head. “Not this. I don’t think so anyway. I mean he was definitely upset about… “

She pauses looking at him and then away. He feels a strange fluttering in his stomach. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously and he’s struck with the knowledge of how soft it is, what it looks like messy and thrown back over crimson bed sheets. He knows how small her hands are in his, how she smells. It was just one night, but it’s intimate knowledge he now has of her. Intimate and immediately memorized. She must too be thinking along the same lines, as she’s looking away from him, running her hands over the smooth velvet of the couch, tracing mindless patterns. He wonders if he’s looking back on the affair with rose colored glasses. Maybe she didn’t moan _quite_ as loud as he imagined that night. Maybe her arching beneath him was in discomfort, her whispered words the result of a carefully practiced script. He was the lucky one after all. She just wanted revenge and he was the only viable option.

“I’m sorry. I don’t wanna be weird.” She explains, before mumbling. “How could you not tell me you were a cop?”

“I don’t consider myself a cop. More of a detective.” Adding dryly, “I was undercover.”

She tilts her head, eyes squinting skeptically, “Because you think Light is _Kira_?”

“I’m almost certain he is. You may disagree, but if you’ve suddenly forgotten what you wanted to tell me, then it’s possible for you to forget that as well.”

She crosses her arms over her chest with a resigned sigh.

“So, what now?” She asks irritated.

“Start from the beginning. What do you remember of last night?”

She takes a deep breath. “I remember everything about um, you know, you.”

He only nods to show he’s paying attention.

“I guess I went home after.” She frowns. “The next thing I remember is Light coming over. He was mad at me, he…he hit me. I apologized. Then I ended up at the police station. I really don’t know anything else.”

He’s not happy that Light has hit her but feels a grim sense of satisfaction that he can haul him in on assault charges if need be. Misa left him at around midnight the night before and ended up at the police station the next evening at 7:43pm. Nearly 20 hours unaccounted for. She must have slept at some point in that time. While she looks tired it’s not at the level of exhaustion she should be at if she’d gone without rest. She also managed to get hurt in that time, probably sometime last night based on how healed the cuts on her legs look.

“I’ll have to bring Light in sometime to ask him what he knows. He can corroborate your story if needed as well.”

“I guess.” She doesn’t look thrilled about it.

She looks like she wants to say more, but Matsuda comes back with a small cup of soup and the bandages L asked for. He also lets her know that a room has been set up for her next door when she needs to sleep. She doesn’t look happy about having to stay there but nods in an accepting sort of way. L feels an irrational and maddening flare of jealousy as Matsuda bends to help her with her wounds.

“I’ll take care of that thank you.” He says suddenly. Matsuda’s eyes are wide but nods, wisely recognizing the dismissal.

L kneels before her, dabbing antiseptic cream lightly along her legs, sealing the larger cuts with a bandage. He tries not to feel too pleased at how close he is, how it ignites something in him to be pressing the tips of his fingers gently against her again. She’s silent above him, probably disgusted by him. Or annoyed. He can’t help it though. It’s such a small thing but the idea of watching another man doing this has him feeling irritated. There’s another word for it that he tries to ignore. _Territorial_.

When he finally looks up at her, eyes rising from her thighs, to the small steaming mug that she cups in her hands, to her face, where instead of the annoyance he expected, she has a similar expression to when she caressed his face the night before. Only this time it’s gentler and sadder. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She whispers, tears beading, threatening to spill over her lower lashes. 

“I think you’re probably seeing something that isn’t there.” He says lightly, standing back up. “You should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

She nods, looking away from him but when she stands, she doesn’t move.

“Ryuzaki!“ She says determinedly, “I need to say something.”

He was worried she would bring it up. He really doesn’t want to hear any apologies or justifications for why it happened. He was content to count his blessings and move on as quickly as possible from that night. He needs to stay focused on solving this case. Even with his surveillance on Light, more criminals die by the hour, he doesn’t have time to sort through anything else.

He stands, ready to leave and says over his shoulder with a sigh: “Don’t bother. It’s fine.”

“I just wanted to say I’m glad!”

He turns back to her. Her face flushes pink as she stammers out. “I’m glad I still remember everything about last night-that I didn’t forget it. That’s all.”

Before he can respond she brushes past him towards the exit. He stands alone, awkwardly feeling off balance by the encounter. Nothing about this situation is ideal, it’s not realistic, it isn’t smart.

But he’s glad too.

* * *

She finds being stuck at headquarters mostly boring. Ryuzaki promises to bring her schoolwork so she can still turn in assignments, which isn’t the comfort he probably thinks it is. 

Throughout the next week, officers and investigators trickle through the halls, in and out. She sees Ryuzaki every now and then. He’s usually crouched at a desk, face blank as he looks over information on a computer screen he’s angled away so no one but him can see it. Other times he’s surrounded by a gaggle of severe looking detectives, brows furrowed, whispered conversations, secret meetings she’s not allowed to hear.

While she should feel frustrated by being locked up, she finds it a welcome respite. She’s warned that cameras are everywhere, and an alarm will sound if she tries to escape but she doesn’t feel tempted to leave. There was a sense of obligation before to dealing with Lights reaction to her cheating, to the mess that’s been made of her relationship. Not that she really enjoys it but with her missing memory she feels like she has permission to care about something else for once. She also can’t quite work through what she feels for him now. Cheating on him didn’t end up giving her the satisfaction she thought she’d get. It just muddied the waters even more. 

She still can’t figure out what it is she’s apparently suppressing and part of her is scared to find out. What if she’s hurt someone? What if she gets Light in trouble? She came in with information about Kira? It doesn’t make any sense to her. All she does is school, the occasional photoshoot, and spend time with Light. She wouldn’t have any time to run into some serial killer who’s only killing criminals.

They bring someone in to help her, a therapist of some sort. He has her lay down in a dim room on a long sofa, on the other side is a camera that Ryuzaki and several other detectives are watching her through. He assures her that she’s safe and this will be as unobtrusive as possible. She still feels uncomfortable with the whole thing, like they’re trying to dig inside her brain, but goes through with it. Like she has a choice either way.

There’s a moment during therapy she feels like she’s reliving something awful. There’s a feeling of something heavy, falling against her and scrambling backwards on the ground in an empty alleyway. For a moment she sees a pair of dead eyes, raw and red rimmed, staring at her accusingly. She also has the sense of something following her in the dark. It causes her to panic. She sits up clutching at her chest, gasping for breath. She hears Ryuzaki tell someone to give her a break. When she sees him after she gets the sense that he feels guilty for making her do it, but he doesn’t offer any comfort beyond letting her stop early. He avoids her for a few days after that. Her nightmares begin that night.

She formally meets some of the task force members though most are wary of her. Ryuzaki has made it no secret that she’s a major suspect, even though he has no real evidence. The only person she finds herself liking outright is Watari, a kindly old man who brings her a warm cup of tea after one of her more stressful therapy sessions and gives her an encouraging smile. 

The daily therapy sessions have her feeling moody and tense. But aside from that, she’s stuck inside all day and left to her own devices. Which leaves her plenty of time for her mind to wander again towards the more explicit details of her night with Ryuzaki. It might be easier to forget if he wasn’t so close but he’s always nearby. Even when she thinks she’s alone she’ll jump when his low voice comes from behind her or when he brushes softly past her in the hall. It’s a lingering thing that has her feeling needy and curious.

He directs people, tells them what to do. Everyone listens to him like he’s the smartest man in the world. He’s respected. She fantasizes about how good it would feel to order him around again. Only she knows what he’s like when he’s not working. What he sounds like begging for release. She feels a familiar ache between her legs and sighs. From across the room Ryuzaki meets her eyes again, but this time she makes sure she’s not the first one to breakaway, noticing that his cheekbones have the barest hint of red on them.

The guilt she felt before about sleeping with him has thawed somewhat. Being away from real life and Light has her feeling less worried about the consequences. It’s hard to get him alone in the daytime, he’s always taking phone calls and meetings, but at night he’s fair game. Plus, she doesn’t like being alone at night these days. Her dreams are plagued by shadowy figures trying to pull her down into some unknown abyss. She just wants a few hours away from worrying about Kira and being trapped inside all the time. It’s a tempting distraction and she wonders how easy it’ll be to get him on board.

She thinks back to how he stammered with her sitting on his lap, how his hands shook when he touched her. It’ll be _so_ easy.

Later, she wanders into the room he’s spent the most time at recently. It’s a smaller office secluded from the others nearby, complete with old wingback chairs and a window whose curtains are drawn tightly shut. He’s hunched over a desk that’s littered with candy wrappers and half empty mugs of coffee and tea. When she shuts the door softly behind her, he does little more than glance up at her and back at his screen.

“Is anyone still here Ryuzaki?”

His voice is a bored monotone when he speaks. “No, everyone has gone home for the night. It’s late, you should go back to your room, you’re distracting me.”

She ignores this and pushes aside a stack of paper and hops up on his desk, legs swinging off the side. He gives her a sideways, slightly annoyed glance but continues typing. He can’t ignore her completely though; she notices how his eyes continuously stray back to her, even if he heaves an irritated sigh.

“You know, if you’re gonna keep me locked up here you could try to be a little more friendly.” She says sighing dramatically, picking up one of the suckers from his desk and unwrapping it to pop into her mouth.

He takes a sip of tea from beside him without looking away from the screen. “How do you suggest I do that?”

“Well, you did send my boyfriend a picture of me half naked. Maybe start there.”

He sets his cup down and stares blankly up at her. “Would you like me to apologize? Fall to my knees?”

He says it sarcastically, but Misa sits up and tilts her head like she’s considering it seriously.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t get on your knees for me, Ryuzaki?”

The atmosphere changes when she says it. His hands hover over the keyboard for a beat before he abruptly stands up from his desk and walks to the door, turning the lock with a heavy click. She feels a rush of delight when he returns and sinks to his knees before her.

“What now?”

She pulls the sucker from her mouth with a small smile. “Now you show me how sorry you are.”

He’s still for a second before he hesitantly trails hand up her leg. He’s slow, agonizingly so. He leans in to brush his lips against her thigh, moving steadily upwards. Her breath catches in her throat, eyes fluttering closed as he lingers near the hem of her skirt. 

He pauses, presumably when he notices her purposeful lack of clothing underneath. She thought she ought to make it easier on him. He swallows and she hears his breathing hitch and despite his initial protests about her being there too late and distracting him, he obliges, moving back in and spreading her legs. 

She feels wicked seeing him disappear under her skirt. The first soft flick of his tongue against her elicits a moan that she has the good sense to muffle, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

Even though it’s been a while since they first fooled around, he seems to remember exactly what to do. His hot tongue immediately finds her clit, swirling just around it, spreading her lips apart with his fingers tasting her. She gives a delighted gasp as he tugs her to the edge of the desk, gripping her legs so that they rest on his shoulders. She leans back, propping herself up as his tongue laps along her wet slit.

She’s so wet she’s probably leaving a mess on his desk and a debauched part of her feels a thrill at the thought of him working with the taskforce later, remembering exactly what happened there. 

“Touch yourself.” She whispers. Without extracting his mouth from her, she hears the faint sounds of him shuffling his jeans and a zipper being pulled.

His breathing becomes heavier against her. She runs her hands through his hair, inexplicably blushing when his eyes flick up to meet hers.

“You’re so bad Ryuzaki.” She says quietly, arching against his face. “What will everything think if they find you eating me out on your desk-ah!”

Her legs muffle the groan he’s letting out against her. The vibration feels heavenly. She can hear the slick sounds of his tongue working against her along with the faint, rhythmic sounds of him stroking himself beneath the desk. She wishes she could watch him do it, wants to watch him lose control and cum on her.

As much as she wants to prolong the experience, weeks of being pent up, constantly fantasizing about being with him again has her quickly sliding into an orgasm. She grips his hair, pressing into him as waves of pleasure ripple through her body, his tongue continues to dance against her. She bites her lip as a restrained whimper escapes them. 

She sits back panting and sees he’s still jerking off, watching her with rapt attention. His hair is disheveled, mouth slack. He hasn’t bothered to wipe his face. He looks wild and so different from how he usually is, surrounded by boring old men in suits asking him for advice. It’s her favorite look of his.

“Stand up.” She says softly. 

As he does, his hand still working on himself, she sits back on his desk spreading her legs for him, running her fingers along the slick wetness between them. She flicks her eyes from between her legs back up at him.

“Do you wanna cum on me, Ryuzaki?”

He jerks his head in affirmation, words coming out in a strained plea, “Yes, please.”

She gives him an angelic smile, pausing to bring a finger up to her lips, tasting herself with an exaggerated moan. It’s mostly for show but evidently, it’s enough to send him over the edge, because before she can give a formal command, he leans in and spills himself onto her. It stripes across the edge of her skirt, dripping down between her legs and pooling on the desk below. 

_"F-fuck!”_

He hisses out another expletive and falls forward, palms splayed against the desk on either side of her panting, his head falling against her shoulder. 

“I-I’m sorry-thank you.” The words tumble clumsily out of him as he tries to regain his sanity. She giggles up at him as he falls back into his chair, quickly tugging his jeans back up.

After a minute or two he asks her. “Do you forgive me?”

She blinks. “I didn’t think you’d actually apologize.”

“I won’t say I’m sorry he found out, only that I upset you.”

She scrunches her nose and asks teasingly, “What if I say I don’t forgive you, what will you do then?”

He thinks for a moment, “I suppose if this is your preferred method of receiving apologies, I’ll be fine if you’re angry with me forever.”

She smacks him lightly on the shoulder with a laugh and feels a rush of affection when he smiles back at her. She realizes she’s never seen him do it before. It makes him look boyish and sweet. And for some reason despite her very provocative position, it makes her feel a little shy. 

“Not fair.” She pouts as he stands to lift her easily from the desk. He grabs a tissue from a box nearby, swiping across her lap and on the desk. 

“I’ve made a mess of you. You should get back to your room. I’ve really got to get some work done and I’d rather no one see you like this.”

She points at the chair in the corner. “Can’t I sleep here tonight?”

He purses his lips as she adds quickly. “I won’t bother you! I’m just having nightmares ever since I started that stupid therapy. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“You’re having nightmares? What about?”

She shrugs. “About monsters watching me. I know it sounds dumb, but they really freak me out.”

He sighs, settling back before his computer. “Fine, but if you disturb me, I’ll have to send you back at once.”

She nods, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping into the chair, pulling a small throw blanket over herself. The contrast between his demeanor a few minutes ago to now has her giggling to herself.

He gives another stern warning about not distracting him, but she just gives him a sleepy smile, her lids already growing heavy. The last thing she registers is feeling warm and safe for the first time in a long time and that it might be worth being locked up after all.

* * *

It’s late afternoon and he has nowhere to go, no real direction besides forward. The streets are bare and quiet, his footsteps echo lightly, bouncing off the buildings beside him. He can see the silhouettes of shadow people moving across the windows, their murky forms swaying and rippling strangely. Some stop to watch as he passes, others go dark entirely. An endless skyline stretches before him and along the horizon for eternity. There’s no end in sight, just tall buildings in the distance that are blurry and hard to see.

It’s been this way for as long as he can remember. Just he alone, pressing forward. It does no good to look back, because he can’t go back there even if he wants to sometimes. He just continues his journey forward. Every now and then a shadow moves beside him only to disappear shortly after. Some forms are more solid than others, some no more than a hazy mist. No one ever stays with him for very long.

In an intersection before him, he sees her. She’s decked out in a frilly black dress. It matches her red lips and heavily lined eyes that are currently blank, clear of any emotion. She looks a little older by a few years at least. Her face is gaunter and more angular than he last saw her. There is a heaviness to her features that alarms him. 

When she walks through the intersection without acknowledging him, it’s not that she simply doesn’t see him, but rather that he doesn’t exist at all. She’s walking in the opposite direction.

And he knows exactly where she’s heading. 

He has always been conscious of how closely death follows him. It doesn’t scare him, necessarily. Maybe risk gives him pause for caution, but he measures it with a steady hand and if it’s in his favor, he’ll take a chance. But now faced with the reality of her being ripped from not just him, but from the world entirely, he feels a deep-rooted terror seize him, one that causes his footsteps to falter for the first time.

Time slows as she passes and he feels her, vibrant and alive, warm, and breathing; it’s simply not possible, incomprehensible. If anyone should bow out early, it should be him. He’s always expected it for himself. That one day he’d make a misstep, miscalculation, missed opportunity.

In contrast to his own directionless amble, when she walks there is a distinct finality to it. No speeding train nor desperate hands stretched out in a frantic bid to grab hers, will stop her from her destination. The rooftop calls to her, the siren call of death, and he can’t silence it, no one can. 

When he turns to watch her, he sees every step she’ll take, every button she presses, every stair she climbs, every detail of her last moments on earth, down to the small bows that sway on the back of her shiny platform heels. 

She stares out at the setting sun, her body awash in its brilliant amber glow. Almost as warm as she is. She has no reaction to the drop of blood that races along the curve of her wrist towards her fingers, a parting gift from the chain link fence she’s held aside to reach the precarious ledge. 

His unsaid words are frozen in his throat, tongue turned to stone, body rooted into the concrete below because it’s too late to say or do anything. An enormous, dark shadow descends beside him. He can’t turn his head away to see who it is, and he has the feeling that this shadow is willing him to keep his eyes on her. All he can do is watch in mute horror, knowing that the moment gravity has its way with her, he too will shatter.

There is a sparkle of moisture that slips down her cheek, a slow exhale, and a quick step forward.

Mercifully, he lifts his head from his arms with a jolt, where he’s fallen asleep. His heart is still pounding painfully in his chest as he looks around startled.

His eyes fall on Misa, who has also fallen asleep. She’s curled up, small and defenseless in the armchair next to the window.

He gets up to look at her more closely, trepidation in his quiet footsteps as he watches the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair flutters against her parted lips as she breathes. He doesn’t necessarily believe in premonitions, but he can’t shake the idea that his dream was real. Or it _could_ be.

He slides his arms underneath her warm body, carefully lifting her from the chair. She mumbles unintelligibly in her sleep, nestling against his chest as he carries her down the hall. It’s a small act that causes a swell of unidentifiable emotions to rise in him. Painful and aching.

He hesitates outside her assigned room and considers taking her to his instead. He just wants to keep her somewhere safe, away from Light, away from the nightmares and monsters she complains about, from his own. It’s a thought that makes him feel guilty, like he’s stealing something that doesn’t belong to him. He eases the door open, placing her gently onto her own bed, shifting the covers so that they lay over her. He watches her shiver and turn over, and despite his usual aversion to sleep, he finds he wants to crawl in beside her. He wants to lay behind her, pull her close and sneak into whatever dream currently has her lips curved into a small, contented smile while she sleeps. 

Instead, he turns the lamp off and leaves. It’s only after he’s closed the door that he thinks that perhaps he’s taken her nightmares, at least for the night. Recklessly he wonders how many nights he can keep them at bay and speculates if his own nightmare is provoking him to action.

As the days pass by, he’s feeling more and more guilty for the complications he’s allowing her to bring into his investigation. He finds himself stopping her therapy sessions the moment she looks uncomfortable, even when his fellow taskforce members are becoming frustrated by the lack of new leads in the case. He’s less able to be tolerate it when another man looks at her when she passes, how oblivious she is to the attention she gets. He can’t blame them though; he can’t resist her either.

When she whispers in his ear to join her in her bed, he never says no. He lets her lead him back and lays down beside her. Inevitably she’ll tell him what to do, how to touch her and where, and he enjoys the moments he doesn’t have to think about anything other than pleasing her. It’s mindless at first, easy to let his body enjoy it without thinking too hard. Her inexplicable desire to take her clothes off for him can only be rationalized by her being stuck here and needing an outlet. She’s bored. They’re just using each other, and in his case, he likes being used by her. It’s more than he ever thought he’d get in this life. So, he lets himself get lost in the feeling of her hands tracing along his skin, her hair trailing down on his lap as she takes him in her mouth. It’s easy to slip into that dream with her while everything else passes him by, to ignore the passing glances and whispers that follow him because he knows any man would kill to be in his position when he’s on his knees before her, when she cries out his name, fake or not, loud enough for anyone walking by to hear.

He’s hesitant in his exploration of her body because regardless of the number of times they end up together, he can’t help but worry about when the other shoe will drop. When she’ll pull back to laugh at his ineptitude or mock him for his lack of experience. He’s grateful that most of it turns out to be instinctual when she doesn’t tell him exactly what to do. He pulls from his own fantasies of her from before. He tugs the straps of her bra down, struggling to unhook it behind her back and she lets out a soft giggle that he feels run through his body. Rather than feeling mocking however, he feels a pleasant warmth. If that’s her laughing at him maybe he’ll allow it because it sounds so nice.

He bends to take the stiff peak of her breast in his mouth, running his tongue along it until it pebbles in his mouth. She shivers, urging him on. Her whispered praises have him feeling less in control, pushing her down into the mattress, eager to slip inside her. He runs a hand between her legs and groans at how wet she is. _For what?_ He wonders vaguely as she squirms beneath him. She grips his forearm, head thrown back, biting her lip and moaning as he deftly circles her clit, her half-lidded eyes beckoning him on. She gasps as he pumps one and then another finger inside of her. She’s so wet and tight, clenching onto him immediately. He dies a little every time she tells him to slow down, to hold back, because it takes all his self-control, he just wants to be inside of her _so badly_. But he obeys at once because he’s not about to mess everything up. Seeing her like this always has him infuriated as to how Light could possibly be so extraordinarily _stupid_ to sleep with anyone else. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him down to kiss her while her hands wander below, softly stroking him and suddenly, he’s extraordinarily _grateful_ for Light’s idiocy.

She bends over and he feels his throat go dry when she asks if he wants to fuck her from behind. It’s embarrassing when she insists on him answering. She won’t take a quick nod for an answer: she always expects him to make a fool of himself by nearly begging for it until he’s painfully hard. That might be part of why he’s so aroused though.

He grips her by the hips while she bends over and looks back at him, spilling more dirty talk from her pretty red lips that have lipstick smudged across them from kissing, and that drives him crazy. He fucks her harder when she does that, causing her to fall forward, her hands braced against the sheets, gripping them as she cries out. She tells him how good he feels inside of her, how good he’s getting at fucking her, how _obedient_ he is.

He feels her pulse around him and it’s too good a feeling to waste. He digs his fingers into her hips hard enough to bruise but doesn’t she doesn’t ever seem to mind. For her he can never go hard enough, deep enough, she’s always demanding more from him. There’s something so irresistibly taboo about finishing inside of her, like he’s marking her as his. He’s made sure that she’s on a very reliable contraceptive and feels they’re being reasonably safe. Though, in the darker parts of his fantasies he doesn’t give a damn either way. He gives into the feeling of her squeezing him, milking him of everything he has, trying to suppress the choking cries he lets out. He pulls out slowly so he can watch it drip from her and feels a rush of primal satisfaction. Even if later, he feels a little ashamed of himself for thinking about it that way.

But while it started off mindless, it’s not staying that way. He’s having difficulty separating the physical sensations from the feelings they inevitably bring. Especially when they finish, and she does something unusually kind to make him think there’s more to this than just barely-friends with benefits. Like when she reaches across him to make sure he’s got some blanket covering him too, like she’s worried about him getting cold or how she looks sad when they discuss her parents murder, and he mentions offhandedly about being an orphan. He wasn’t looking for pity when he said it, he doesn’t know _what_ he was looking for, but she pulls him closer all the same, holding him.

But there’s something that always creeps into his mind in the quiet moments when she’s fallen asleep beside him: _This can’t last forever_. All sense of self-preservation he has disappears when it comes to her and it’ll cost him if he lets it go on like this. The clock is ticking and like his colleagues, he too is getting frustrated with the lack of evidence. He knows who his gut tells him it is. He also has the sinking feeling that the moment Light comes back into her life, the spell will be broken, and she’ll run back to him. And he’ll have to go back to trying to pry her mind open even harder to find out what sent her running into the police station in the first place. More people die by the day and he’s getting desperate.

He can’t keep her chained to him.

He sits up in bed and looks back at her. Her arm is outstretched in sleep, reaching towards him and he’s struck with an idea. He’ll need to resort to more drastic measures, even if it means bringing an end to the dream he’s been living in. He knew that one day he’d have to let her go anyway.

* * *

“I’ve decided to let you out of headquarters for the day.” Ryuzaki announces, handing her a small envelope. “Your therapist agrees you should get some fresh air and time away. It may help your memory return more quickly.” She takes it from him feeling puzzled and looks inside to see a wad of cash. She gawks at him.

“You’re letting me out to go _shopping_?”

“You’ll have to return tonight and of course I’ll have one of the taskforce members accompany you. Don’t try contacting anyone when you’re out.”

She senses the omission of Light’s name in that last request. It’s an innocent enough excuse but she can’t help but feel like he’s trying to get rid of her for some reason. She stares up at him suspiciously. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced than usual and she resists the temptation to stroke his cheek, to ask what’s really going on. Seeming to sense this, he steps back from her.

“I guess that sounds okay...”

He’s always more distant and professionally cold towards her in the daytime or around other people. Probably to keep up appearances and keep his authority or whatever. But today feels different. It’s an unsettling feeling she decides it’s for the best to try and ignore. She hasn’t been able to leave headquarters for weeks and finds she’s looking forward to the time away. If he wants her to go blow his money on clothes, he doesn’t have to ask _her_ twice.

Matsuda keeps his distance from her while she window shops. There aren’t many places nearby, but she eventually wanders to a few clothing boutiques several blocks down to check out and try stuff on for fun. It’s been a while since she’s been able to go shopping and finds the time out relaxing, even if her bodyguard/babysitter trails behind her looking exasperated by the number of stops she makes. She laughs when he is adamant about waiting outside of a lingerie store, keeping his eyes determinedly pointed away in embarrassment.

There’s a café nearby that she insists on stopping into, much to the relief of Matsuda who has become more of a bag holder than bodyguard, juggling several in his hands at once.

She approaches the giant menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices on the board. She grabs a small bag of chocolate covered espresso beans setting them on the counter, thinking maybe Ryuzaki will like them. The woman working there looks to be around her own age, with short, wispy brown hair. She gives Misa a friendly smile, drying her hands off on her apron as she approaches.

“Anything you need help with?”

“Yeah, I have no idea what to order. I don’t know too much about coffee.”

The woman behind the counter thinks for a moment, placing a hand under her chin, “If you want something that isn’t too sweet, I recommend getting a mocha, they’re pretty popular.”

“That sounds great!”

After a few minutes, she sets a small mug of coffee before her with an elaborate leaf pattern etched into the foam. Misa gasps delightedly and quickly digs for her phone to snap a picture before taking a delicate sip. Bitter chocolate with a hint of sweetness floods her tongue and she sighs contentedly. The coffee back at headquarters is usually old and sour or overly sweet thanks to Ryuzaki. She grins up at the barista who’s beaming right back at her.

“This is perfect!”

She wipes her hands with a rag. “I’m glad! I just started working here part time when I’m not at the TV station, so I’m thankful I’m doing alright.”

“It’s great! I usually hate coffee.” Misa admits sheepishly, “I’m just here as an excuse to get out of my…apartment.”

The woman points behind her at Matsuda who is nodding off in a corner nearby, his head drooping onto the wall beside him. “Your boyfriend looks beat.”

Misa laughs, waving her hands dismissively, “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend! He’s just helping me carry my bags.”

“Oh, I see! Do you have a boyfriend then?”

Misa starts to respond but stops herself. She’s not sure _what_ she has these days. Seeming to sense her discomfort, the woman grins apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy.”

“No, it’s fine!” Misa says quickly. “It’s just complicated. Relationship problems.”

“I’m actually about to go on break, if you want talk about it.”

Misa pauses for a moment. It’s been a while since she’s had a normal conversation, especially with another girl. She’s so tired of being surrounded by surly, grumpy old men in suits and badges who look at her with suspicion. She takes a breath and nods.

“That sounds really nice actually.”

She spends the better part of an hour venting about her relationship problems. She knows not to give too many details. She doesn’t say she’s a Kira suspect for sure and she doesn’t mention Ryuzaki’s job. Only the more basic aspects of their relationship. She mentions Light cheating, his erratic behavior recently, and his reaction to her doing the same to him. How kind Ryuzaki is compared to Light, how even with that kindness there’s something in Light that always brings her back to him, even if she’s starting to see how unhealthy that is.

The woman listens to her, offering to run back and refill her coffee from time to time. She gives little advice, and mostly listens intently, nodding in sympathy.

“And so that’s where I’m at.” Misa finishes, swirling her near empty coffee cup distractedly. Late afternoon sun has begun to filter through the windows of the café.

“It sounds rough.” She twirls a lock of short brown hair in between her fingers as she thinks. “I think It’s hard to be in love with two people at once.”

_In love?_

“Wait, you think I’m in love with him too?”

She smiles like it’s obvious, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what it sounds like.”

With _Ryuzaki?_ As frightening as the thought should be, it starts feeling more obvious to her too. She does care about him. She likes all his weird quirks, stuff that would usually turn her off in a guy like his bad posture, his love of sickly-sweet things, how he looks when he’s pouting. Things only _she_ knows. She wants to learn more about him. She imagines a future where in the morning he’s not slipping away, one where he stays with her. No Kira, no obligations. _No Light?_

Interrupting her thoughts, the woman asks, “What’s this guy’s name again?”

“Huh?” Misa asks with a start, “Ryuzaki?”

“Yeah, but his full name. Maybe I know him.”

Misa thinks for a moment. She’s aware his name is an alias, one of many, based on conversations she’s overheard, but besides that she has no clue. And even if she did, she has a feeling that it’s something she shouldn’t let just anybody know. She’s heard Ryuzaki say that Kira needs someone’s full name to kill them. He must keep his name a secret for that reason. It’s then that she notices Matsuda wake with a start and look at his watch, his face paling. He calls out to her worriedly. “Um Miss Amane, we have to get back!”

“Oh, darn it! Thank you for listening.” Misa says smiling as she gets up from the table, “What’s your name by the way? I feel bad I didn’t even ask before!”

“It’s Kiyomi Takada. And no problem, I hope you come back soon Misa.”

“I’ll definitely try! Sorry I talked the whole time, next time I want to hear about you too!”

Kiyomi gives her a small smile, “I’ll make sure the next time we meet; You’ll learn _all_ about me.”

* * *

Matsuda rushes Misa back to headquarters and to her room, dropping off her bags hastily. He apologizes before quickly heading back out. She tries to ask him if she can go see Ryuzaki but he’s already gone.

She sighs, flopping back onto the bed. She can’t help but think of what Kiyomi said.

In love with Ryuzaki?

_I love Light too though, don’t I?_

It’s a sad fact she can’t ignore. Sad and maybe a little irrational, she can admit that much. Maybe she does feel something deeper for Ryuzaki. It’s different from what she feels for Light and it’s selfish to want to keep him to herself when she’s feeling so torn. She _likes_ being with Ryuzaki, he turns into someone else when they’re alone together. When it’s just the two of them, she feels happy and _safe_. She doesn’t have to pretend to be anyone else. He listens to her, he holds her. Even now all she can think of is how badly she wants to see him again, being apart for the day has left a pleasant fluttering of butterflies in her stomach _. I don’t need to think about the hard stuff right now do I?_ She thinks maybe she can sneak into his room again tonight and make use of some of the lingerie she bought today, smiling at the thought of how flustered he’ll be when he sees her in it.

She leaves her room with the goal in mind to find him. She closes the door behind her and sees him walking down the hall towards her. Somehow wrestling with the idea of being in love with him makes her feel happier to see him. She lifts the small bag containing the chocolate covered espresso beans with a smile, about to announce that she brought him something sweet, but lowers it slowly when she notices how determined he looks marching towards her, his face grim and severe.

She’s bewildered as he pulls her around a secluded corner and presses his mouth hungrily to hers. She drops the bag in surprise, feeling his hands on either side of her face. It’s a sudden attack that’s left her weak and breathless and before she can even return it, he’s pulled back from her, breathing heavy.

“I apologize. I just don’t think I’ll get another chance.”

She frowns up at him confused, as he leads her back around and through a door nearby. His face is gloomy as he directs her inside, where waiting in the center of the room stands the very reason why they won’t have another chance.

“Light?” She gasps, running to him at once. He’s looking at her like he’s trying to figure something out but otherwise he looks almost relieved to see her. Based on how they last interacted, or what she can remember of it, she’s surprised by this. She also has a hard time ignoring the pang of guilt she feels when she realizes how quickly she left Ryuzaki’s side for his.

“I told you Light is a suspect as well.” He says quietly from behind her, “I’ve decided this is the best way to keep an eye on him for now.”

She watches shocked as he steps forward to hook a handcuff onto Light’s wrist. The other end is connected by a long chain that he secures onto his own wrist with a decisive click. Light looks unsurprised and more resigned to it.

Ryuzaki turns to Misa. “Now let’s get this out of the way: What do you know about the women Light has cheated on you with?”

_Women? As in more than one?_ She blinks at him in shock. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to answer that Misa.” Light says annoyed, glaring at Ryuzaki. “I already explained to him that couples go through these sorts of things. Besides, its private and has nothing to do with the Kira investigation.”

“It has everything to do with it, actually.” Ryuzaki says mildly. “I believe one of them to be the second Kira. However, we’re having a hard time tracking one of them down, you’ve been keeping quite busy.”

She tries not to feel hurt by that since she hasn’t exactly been faithful either. Still, it stings. He steps around her to get in Ryuzaki’s face, pressing a finger into his chest accusingly.

“I volunteered to come in.” He snaps. “I want to help in the investigation, or have you forgotten that? Besides, if you know Misa isn’t the second Kira, why keep her here?”

Ryuzaki nods, biting his thumb as though he’s considering it, “True. I cleared her weeks ago.”

“Then let her leave.” Light says dismissively. “There’s no sense in involving more innocent people in this.”

She wonders why he hasn’t told her about her missing memory but Ryuzaki’s next words stir up a pit of anxiety inside her.

“You don’t care to know how I cleared her? How we met?” Ryuzaki asks innocently. Misa’s eyes widen. She knows what he’s about to say. She mouths at him from behind Light to shut up _, please shut up!_

Light scoffs, “Why would I care?”

“Because I’m the one who sent you the picture.”

“Picture?” Light then falls silent and for a moment Misa can see the realization dawn on him. The picture of her naked in Ryuzaki’s bed. She feels herself shrink into a corner. She can’t believe he’s even bringing it up and she’s furious. _Light didn’t need to know it was him!_ But he doesn’t look ashamed at all. In fact, if she doesn’t know any better, Ryuzaki seems to be reveling in the opportunity to tell him that it was him.

Light’s face is hard and Misa can see a vein pulsing. “What the hell is your problem Ryuzaki? This isn’t the time to be joking about things like that.”

“I’m not joking.” He says simply, “I sent the picture. If I weren’t handcuffed to you, I’d have her again tonight. Perhaps I’ll just ask her to stay quiet while you’re slee-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before Light’s fist connects with his jaw, sending him across the floor with a painful grunt.

Misa gasps, “No, you’ll hurt him!”

They grapple with each other, overturning the furniture. She falls back, groaning in disgust as she steps on a piece of cake that’s fallen to the floor, no doubt left over from Ryuzaki. She looks around helplessly at the cameras in the corners of the room. She knows that most rooms in headquarters are under surveillance and she can’t understand why anyone isn’t coming to stop them.

Light pants as he holds Ryuzaki by the collar, “It’s like you’ll only be satisfied if I am Kira. Well, I’m not so get over it already!”

Ryuzaki’s face is sullen as he responds bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll only be happy when I’ve got you behind bars.”

Ryuzaki kicks Light hard enough that it sends him stumbling into the coffee table, spilling more cups and plates there with a heavy crash and pulling Ryuzaki right along with him. She’s aware that he isn’t _quite_ skin and bones, still she can’t help but feel a little impressed that he’s able to fight back at all. Even so, she’s getting annoyed by their childish fight. They’re yelling at one another, toppling more furniture in the process.

“Can you guys _please_ -“

“Ryuzaki!” The door has burst open, Aizawa and other task force members filter in looking frantic. Misa is relieved, thinking they’re here to put a stop to it, but instead Matsuda turns the TV on, his hands shaking. Their faces are concerned enough that the two men slowly cease fighting. Ryuzaki frowns at them from the floor, trying to stand.

“What’s going on?”

They all look at the TV, which is blurry for a moment, static crackles and pops before a highly modified and warped voice begins to speak over a sharp, inky black image of the letter K.

“So far the police have tried to prevent Kira from making the world a better place. They stand in the way of our New World.”

Ryuzaki turns to Aizawa irritably, “Tell the news station to stop broadcasting!”

Matsuda’s face is pallid and nearly grey as he shakes his head helplessly. “They can’t. Kira threatened to kill everyone working at the station if they stopped it. They have no choice.”

The modulated voice continues. “Kira only kills criminals, the festering scum of this world that continue to prey on the innocent. With the help of the Shinigami, we will purify the world of this filth. A few years behind bars is not justice for extreme violence; it is an outrage. Tonight, Yamada Fujiko, and every criminal in his cell block will die at the end of this broadcast in punishment for their horrific crimes.” The faces of several inmates’ flash across the screen, their corresponding names underneath. “I ask that the police work with us. Join Kira in making the world a safer place.”

The TV goes silent, static issuing forth for several moments.

“Well, there’s our second Kira.” Ryuzaki mutters darkly. Misa is barely listening though. She has fallen to her knees before the screen, eyes wide in shock.

“Misa, what’s wrong?” Matsuda asks worriedly. She doesn’t respond, only clasping a hand over her mouth as she trembles, tears welling up in her eyes.

“It was him.” Light asks her quietly. “Wasn’t it?”

“Who?” Ryuzaki asks, his voice harsh and demanding. He’s knelt beside her to get her attention, but she isn’t looking at him, only at the screen that has finally faded to black. _It’s done. It’s finally done._

“Who was it?” Ryuzaki demands again, his voice rising. He yanks on the handcuff’s chain, causing Light to fall to his knees on the opposite side of her. “ _Who?_ ”

His face is smooth and impassive as he responds, looking not at Ryuzaki, but at Misa.

“The man who killed her parents.”

She sits between them and amidst the mess Light and Ryuzaki have made but their voices fade away into static in her ears as another feeling soars within her. It’s at once both bitter and euphoric and she can’t help but think that it’s for her.

Kira has done this for _her_.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> So, I briefly hesitated in posting this update because I’m playing L a lot more sentimental in this than other fics. I had typed out an entire paragraph explaining my motivation behind that decision before I realized I’d rather leave it be for now 😉 
> 
> I wish everyone a happy and safe new year; may we all heal from 2020. I hope that for whatever you’ve been through in the past year, that you’re made stronger and kinder by it in the year ahead. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think!


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